You Had Your Chance
by UVNight
Summary: They had their chance. They failed. And Jack...all he had left was Pitch Black. A sort of What If, where Jack was so hurt by the Guardians' turning their backs on him after Easter, he joined Pitch Black. Rated for safety's purpose.
1. Chapter 1

_**EDIT**_: I noticed while looking over this chapter that my Line Breaks were deleted when I posted this, so I've gone back and put them back in. Also a bit of editing in terms of spelling and grammar. Nothing new, really, just that the Line Breaks make it a bit more understandable...to me, anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own "Rise of the Guardians" nor _The Guardians of Childhood_ series. If I did own them, things would have been…darker. Most definitely not for the faint of heart, nor for anyone who ever wants to sleep peacefully for a very long time.

**A/N**: I'll be the first to admit that I am a sadist. When I watched RotG for the first time, the idea for this fic popped into my head during Jack and Pitch's confrontation in Antarctica, after the Easter debacle. Because I'm an evil person who likes to imagine the horrible scenarios that _could_ have happened. Enjoy.

**You Had Your Chance**

Toothiana had begged. Sobbed, really. Wept and pleaded and tried _oh so hard_ to appeal to the sweet young child she had seen at The Warren. Tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, whether from an emotional pain or from the agony of both her legs and wings being frozen, he didn't know.

Nor did he care.

He stood over her kneeling form and smiled. Then he swung his staff…and shattered her wings. Her screams were music to his ears. He allowed himself a few moments to enjoy it before tossing something to the ground before her. The screams were replaced with hitching gasps for breath followed by a keening moan that was almost high-pitched enough to hurt his ears. He watched, grinning in satisfaction, as Guardian of Memories gathered the twisted remains of Baby Tooth into her hands and cupped the sprite to her chest.

"Why?" the word was choked out past her tears.

His smile widened, flashing those white-as-snow teeth she was so fond of, as he squatted so they were eye to eye. He lifted a piece of ice and brought it between them. The iridescent fragment of wing encased within winked at them. "Why?" he parroted, a scathing undertone almost eclipsing the amusement in his voice, "Why not? You chose to turn your backs on me. You didn't even give me a chance to explain, to tell you what happened. You just assumed it was all my fault. Easter was ruined, Jack was with Pitch; must be his fault. He messed up. He _always_ messes up. He's irresponsible, he's selfish, he can't be trusted. So," he flicked the shard at her face, scoring a gash across her cheek that immediately welled with blood, "I left. You could have come after me, you know?" Her eyes widened in shock, "Oh yes, you could have flown after me, Tooth. Could have caught up and stopped me, could have stopped all of this from happening. But you didn't. You had your chance. This is just as much your fault, _Guardian_," The rage he imbued into that one word made her flinch back, but her frozen legs kept her from getting away from the icy cold hatred in his eyes, "as it is mine. I hope that thought warms you."

He stood and turned his back on her. Moments later, her screams filled the night air as again as Pitch's Nightmares tore into her bird-like body.

*****************************This is a line break***************

It was easy for Pitch to keep North busy while he dealt with the Tooth Fairy. When he found the Nightmare King and the (once) Jolly Man, he had sat on a rooftop and merely watched as Pitch toyed with the toymaker.

His smile only grew as North, the powerful Cossack Nicholas St. North, was knocked about by weak blasts of black sand, unable to even lift his swords in defense. Pitch's laughter teased him until he couldn't help but join in.

The sound prompted both men to look up. North's eyes lit up with joy at the sight of him before the bearded man turn to Pitch and, with renewed vigor, pointed one blade at the boogeyman.

"Ha! Now you shall see the full might of the Guar – Ugh!"

He wished he could have seen the big man's face, but that was impossible. Instead, he focused on the blood blooming around the massive spike of ice he had just thrust into North's back and out through his jolly belly. The red of the man's coat became stained a darker shade as the ice was twisted. North choked, the sound wet with what the boy suspected was more blood bubbling up the large man's throat. The Winter Spirit gave one more sharp twist then released the spike and moved around to stand between North and Pitch.

"The full might of the Guardians? Looks pretty weak to me, North," He raised one dark eyebrow, so like the older spirit's, mockingly, "Or did you mean to include _my_ power with yours? Because I'm sorry, North, but I'm _not_. I'm with Pitch, _remember_. I was with him, laughing as the eggs were destroyed and Easter, your last Hope, was ruined, right? That's obviously what happened, isn't it? It must be, because even though you, _none of you_, were there, you all knew I had betrayed you. I had my memories, and that's all I cared about, right? Answer me!" He grabbed the blood-soaked ice protruding from the man's stomach and gave it a vicious jerk to the side. Flesh and fabric ripped, felt more than heard, as North howled in pain and fell to his knees. He lowered himself so they remained eye to eye. "You told me you put Wonder into the world. So tell me, before you condemned me for a crime I didn't commit, did you use some of your center to _wonder_ if maybe I was tricked? If perhaps I was deceived and tormented, just long enough, to stop me from getting back to you in time to save Easter? Did you?"

Those eyes, those eyes that had been so full of Wonder, dimmed as the horror of what they had done, as the full impact of what they, the Guardians of Children, had done to a _child_ spirit, finally became obvious.

"J – Hragh!" The boy shoved another spike into the Guardian, jamming it deep into the man's throat.

Snowflake blue eyes bore into the man's gaze. "I thought, maybe, I had found a family with you guys. A brother, a mother, a _father_…but no. You had your chance, North. You all did. For 300 years you blamed and hated me, who was I to think that had changed in just a few days?"

The fat man toppled as he drowned in his own blood. Pitch laughed.

*************This, too, is a line break***************

Once you got used to it, Pitch's lair wasn't that bad. It was deep underground, so it was already cold. It was large, so there was plenty of places for him to hide or otherwise avoid Pitch Black when he wanted. And there was no shortage of rooms and caverns, so he had been welcome to choose a section and make it his own. He had chosen the deepest cavern he could find and immediately coated it top to bottom in ice and snow.

Torches set in the walls cast flickering shadows around the cavern, catching and bouncing off the ice. In the flickering light, he could see the rainbow of colors trapped beneath the frozen surface. Really, it had been nice of Pitch to let him keep the mini-tooth fairies. Their multi-colored feathers and jewel-esque eyes gave the cavern a homey touch, making the cavern less dark and dreary.

Smiling softly, he slid a carrot between the bars of a small cage made of ice and stone. "Got a nice treat for you, if you'll be good." Slowly, from the shadows at the back of the cage, a half-starved bunny rabbit inched towards him, nose twitching as it sniffed out the offered food. Just before the pitiful creature could take a bite, the orange delicacy was pulled back. Almost too quiet to hear, a whimper slipped from the grey and white rabbit.

White fingers slipped through the bars. "Come here. You know I won't hurt you. Come here. If you promise to be good, I'll let you out, and feed you. And if you're really good, maybe I'll take you outside. Would you like that?"

Once-spring green eyes, now paled after all Hope had been lost, widened at the offer of outside. Still, though, the rabbit was hesitant.

The corpse-pale fingers wiggled, beckoning. "Come on, Aster. It's spring outside. There's sunshine, flowers, _warmth_…" He knew he had the feeble creature at the promise of warmth.

The formerly proud Pooka warrior drug his small, thin body to the front of the cage he had been imprisoned in a year ago. He knew what was expected of him. It was the same thing he had denied the child spirit since he had learned he was being kept as a _pet_. It was the same thing, if he was honest with himself, that he had _always_ denied the boy. It was the one thing the boy had always craved, and the one thing he demanded of E. Aster Bunnymund over and over again for the past year.

Pride gone, survival instincts the only thing left to him, Bunny pressed his head beneath those cold fingers and nuzzled the hand as affectionately as he could manage.

The smile presented to him reminded him of everything he had lost: of Sandy, Tooth, and North. Of the Children, and of the Man in the Moon. Of his Warren, and his People. Everything good and decent, everything that had made life worth living. Gone.

Except for Jack Frost.

Jack Frost, who he had hated since the Easter of 1768, who he had seen as an irresponsible, selfish brat, who he had almost punched for what had happened that last Easter, and who he had declared as untrustworthy. Jack Frost, the eternal child that the Guardians had always failed, was a constant reminder of everything that had once been good in Bunny's life…

…and as a reminder of who had torn it all down.

To the casual observer, that would appear to be Jack, but Bunny knew the truth. It was him. Him, and as much as it pained him to think it, North, Tooth, Sandy, and MiM who had destroyed the world and allowed it to plummet into another Dark Ages.

And, of course, Pitch Black. The Nightmare King was fond of sneaking into Jack's cavern when the Winter Spirit was gone, creating Winters so bitterly harsh that death was a greater threat than ever and playing practical jokes so dangerous that more than a few humans had died or else been injured. When the child-spirit was away, Pitch would sit next to Aster's cage and regal the former-Guardian with horrific tales of the world above. In less than a year, he had so fully corrupted Jack that the boy didn't see the pain he was causing anymore. Together, they had created a world where everything was, as the grey-skinned maniac was fond of saying "Pitch Black." Bunnymund had been forced to endure the stories, listening as Pitch went on about the nightmares, then death, he and Jack caused together. And every time, the former general would tell Bunny "I really must thank you, Aster. You had your chance, Guardian. You could have prevented this, and all you had to do was accept Jack Frost into your little family of do-gooders. But you didn't! If it hadn't been you the four of you, for the brutality of your rejection of the boy, I never would have been able to persuade him to join me that final Easter. You did more to destroy him with just a few short words and a near strike than I could have if I had had _years_ with him. So, thank you, E. Aster Bunnymund, for helping me take over the world."

Now, as he was treated to a brilliant smile, full of joy at the affection Bunny had shown him, the Pooka wished he still had the strength to travel through time and stop himself from driving the boy away.

Jack's hand twisted and curved over Bunny's head. Icy fingers scratched behind his ears, causing one foot to thump sluggishly against the floor, too weak to strike rapidly. Bunny tilted his head and nuzzled Jack's palm. Snowflake blue eyes softened as tears sprang to Jack's eyes.

His other hand gripped the icicle bars and, one by one, broke them until there was enough room to reach in and pull Bunnymund out. The Pooka was settled in Jack's lap as the Winter Spirit sat cross-legged on the floor. The carrot was brought back and pressed to Bunny's lips. Aster wasted no time and slowly started crunching into the orange bit of food, careful to not upset his stomach. He took frequent breaks, no matter how much his stomach begged for food, and instead allowed his body and mind to soak up the feelings of physical contact and affection Jack was so willing to bestow on him, drifting in and out of a light doze.

Jack didn't take him outside that day, but promised to do so the next morning if Aster was good. That night, as the child-spirit curled his form around Aster's smaller form and slept, the former Guardian of Hope promised himself that he was not going to fail, again. If he could be a Guardian for all the children of the Earth, he could at least be one to Jack. It was all that was left for him.

And with Pitch Black as a father-figure, Jack was going to need all the protection he could get.

Vow made, Aster nuzzled into Jack's embrace and fell asleep, his dreams haunted by images of Toothiana being torn apart and her minis sealed away in a wall of ice, Nicholas St. North impaled on spears of ice, the Sandman's golden body vanishing in a cloud of darkness, and his own Pookan tribe slaughtered, all on the whim of Pitch Black.

*************And the final line break**********

**A/N**: There you have it. North, Tooth and her mini-fairies, and Sandy are all dead. Aster is stuck as Jack's pet, Jack is, for all intents and purposes, Pitch's pet, and Aster and Jack cling desperately to the last bit of love and/or affection left for them. I'm an evil, evil person.

Easter of 1768: It's my belief that that is the Easter of '68 they refer to. Because I like the idea of Bunnymund holding a grudge for that long.

And Aster got to live because I really, REALLY want a freaking bunny rabbit. A Flemish Giant, to be specific. I'm living vicariously through Jack Frost in this incident…um…in regards to having a bunny. Not in regards to being a poor, lonely child who's so starved for affection he's out of his mind…

Okay, I love you, buh-bye!


	2. A Proposition, NOT CHAPTER

**THIS IS NOT A NEW CHAPTER**

"You Had Your Chance" has a few followers, and it's come to my attention that some people expect this to be continued. However, that was never my intent. There was only ever supposed to be the one chapter, a one-shot, just to get out there the darker way RotG could have gone.

I don't really have plans for it, no ideas, no story line or plot to follow. There never was one.

...that being said...I sort of feel obligated to continue this. So, here's my proposition to you all:

I really don't want to have to come up with a plot off the cuff for this, but, if you'll allow me, I CAN throw up a series of one-shots and/or mini-sagas, each sort of building off the first chapter but completely separate from one another. There may be fix-its, dreams, nightmares, just whatever comes to mind that is inspired by this bit. I'll also take requests for it from anyone who has their own bit of inspiration or idea, but aren't sure how to write it.

This is my proposition. If you lot like it, just hit me up, either with a review or a PM, and we'll move on from there. If not, then your silence will say it all.

Have a lovely time, my dearlings!


	3. Nightmares and (Dis)Comfort

**For Motaku1235 and a bit for AnimeHuntress: **Dear Motaku1235 requested the following: "…why not do a nightmare about the guardians for Jack, and maybe Pitch's thoughts on all of this happening?"

Well, I have a plan for part of that request, and the other part…we'll see what happens by the end of this chapter, shall we? I do hope this fulfills you expectations, Motaku!

And AnimeHuntress had a lovely idea, one that I had considered, but didn't do initially because I thought it would be a bit…um…morbid? Gory? Crazy-Psychotic? Traumatizing to some? Possibly all of the above. But…So you wish it, so shall it be!

Remember, if it's a dream/nightmare, that means it's written in _italics_!

Also, this actually takes place BEFORE the ending of last chapter, just so you know. ONWARDS!

**Nightmares and (Dis)Comfort**

_Iridescent wings were still, dainty feet resting on the ground, large violet eyes shimmering with unshed tears and dull with disappointment. "Why? Jack, why would you do this? The entire world is doomed, because of you…"_

_A near-deafening crack split the still air, like a thunder clap and shattering glass. Toothiana's screams followed shortly after as her wing burst into hundreds of broken shards of ice. Jack screamed along with her, screamed as invisible forces tore her body apart before his eyes, screamed as he was held back from helping her by grey skinned hands. He screamed and howled and raged as somewhere in the deep blackness a voice he recognized laughed._

_"Why didn't you give us another chance, Jack? Why didn't you give us a chance, like we gave you…?" The gently admonishing tone was barely heard over the screams and laughter. Barely, but heard nonetheless. Tears streamed down his face as the Tooth Fairy's motherly voice echoed around him, cutting him far more deeply than any blade ever could._

***********Here, have a line break. Line breaks are good for you…maybe…****

_He scuttled back from the towering figure, gasping in terror as the being before him gargled at him. Jack wanted to scream, to cry, to fly away from the horrific sight before him. He wanted to stuff cotton wool in his ears so he wouldn't have to hear the wet squelch the larger man made as he tried to speak, as he tried to make shredded vocal cords form words of accusation, of condemnation, to form _words_ at all. But Jack couldn't block out the sound._

_Shivering in fear, he watched as Nicholas St. North came ever closer. Blood dripped sluggishly from the gaping wound in the man's famous belly, and bubbled from the gory hole in his throat, his once white beard matted with the red substance. Large hands landed on his shoulders, almost swallowing the entirety of the child's torso. North leaned over and gasped out a wet cough. Blood spewed from bloated lips onto the child._

_Jack screamed._

************Oh my, another line break. Why can't we have tea time, instead?*****

From the darkest shadows, he watched, yellow eyes narrowed in glee at the sight before him.

On the far side of the cavern, Jack stood, hands pressed to a thick layer of ice. From his vantage point, Pitch couldn't see what the Winter Child was looking at, but he knew. Oh, how he knew!

While pain and insanity had still gripped the child-spirit so completely a year ago, Jack had meticulously gathered the remains of the Guardians and brought them to one of the lower caverns. Curious, Pitch had watched Jack create two large holes in the walls, splitting the stone easily by forcing ice to expand in cracks. Then, in a manner that was grotesquely reminiscent of a child putting a puzzle together, the Boogeyman had watch the boy slowly piece Toothiana's body back together, each segment of flesh, bone, and feather carefully aligned and sealed into place with ice, until the bird-like body had been, more or less, whole. There were missing feathers, bloody wounds and ragged gashes, but it was without a doubt the once majestic Guardian of Memories. Even her wings had been repaired, the only part of her that looked relatively unharmed by the time Jack had finished. Fine lines cut through the gossamer appendages, spider web thin reminders of the cruelty Jack Frost had once wrought upon her.

It had only been after the boy had put every piece of the puzzle he had found back together that he made use of the smaller of the two holes. With the utmost care he had lifted the delicate form and placed it in the hole, holding it suspended two feet off the ground while ice slowly filled the surrounding area. Occasionally he would remove something from the pocket of his hoodie and settle it in the ice, suspending things that Pitch, at the time, hadn't been able to identify. The end result was Toothiana, Guardian of Memories, forever preserved in flight in a tomb of ice. Nicholas St. North had received a similar burial, although Pitch had found it to be much less gruesome and far easier to watch the proceedings of.

Jack had enlisted the aid of some of Pitch's Nightmares to drag the oversized corpse into the cavern. Then the boy had stripped the Christmas spirit of his coat and shirt before slowly, methodically, cleaning away all traces of blood and gore. He had redressed the body afterwards and, using the Nightmares again, slotted North's corpse into the larger hole. The Nightmares braced the body as the ice slowly filled the chamber. Once, Jack reached in and arranged the arms, sleeves rolled up to reveal the "Naughty" and "Nice" tattoos, so that they held something over the gaping wound in the man's stomach, hiding it from view. The Nightmares collapsed and slide out of the hole just before they were trapped, their task complete, and fled to join their kin. A small part of Pitch's mind wondered if the creatures were just eager to return to their own kind, or if they were terrified of the level of insanity the boy was displaying. Pitch refused to believe the second voice that asked if _he_ was scared, as well.

Instead, he waited.

When the boy had left, hours later, the grey skinned spirit had approached the tombs, a burning desire to know what else had been placed in the ice. With North, he only saw what appeared to be a fruitcake, the object large enough to mask the wound beneath it. Around the Cossack's throat was a scarf, a gaudy multicolored affair that had been arranged to appear as if it was caught in a strong breeze. The once rosy cheeks were forced up to accommodate the fake smile the ice had forever molded onto the blue-in-death lips. Of North's swords, there was no sign, although Pitch has seen Jack collect them, as well. Likely, the taller being had thought, the boy had simply squirreled them away elsewhere.

After giving the Guardian of Wonder a sneering smirk, he had slid over to the other tomb. What he saw very nearly made him question his choice to offer Jack Frost his revenge on those who shunned him. Mini-fairies, their bodies twisted and bent like sick parodies of marionette dolls, hung about their 'mother.' But worse, at least in the Nightmare King's opinion, were the dozens of baby teeth scattered about as well, blood and gums still appearing wet from within the ice.

Vomit splattered on the frosted stones and his own cloak. Those teeth…those had been teeth freshly ripped from a child's mouth. Several children, in fact. In that moment, Pitch had recalled a brown haired, wide-eyed boy, a gap in his teeth, trembling in fear before the King of Nightmares and Jack Frost. He remembered a smaller body, wrapped in the child's arms, with tangled blonde hair and bits of bent wire, elastic, and pink mesh-like material hanging from the smaller child's shivering back. He remembered other children, too: a brutish girl with an affinity for pink and horses, a bespeckled blonde boy, brunette twin boys, a skinny girl. The list went on, but each child had one thing in common…they had all resided in the town where the Guardians had made their last stand. Pitch knew that, if he wanted to confirm his suspicions, he could have gone to the town and sought the children out, and all of them would have been missing every single baby tooth they had.

In that moment, Pitch had wondered if Jack Frost was crazy enough, was strong enough, to destroy _him_.

Now, a year later, the elder spirit knew he had nothing to fear from the boy. The child regretted his actions towards the Guardians, that much was certain, if the nightmares were anything to go by. Night after night, the Winter Spirit dreamt of the rotting remains of his almost-family, of his betrayal to thing and to the rest of the world. Guilt was eating the boy alive, gnawing away at his very soul. The only refuge the child had was with the rabbit, and even that mangy creature refused to give the youth the love he so desperately craved.

So instead, the boy came here, to the tomb he had made for his almost-Father and almost-Mother. After every nightmare, Jack Frost came and pressed himself against the ice, as close as he was able, now, to get to the two people who could have loved him. He talked to them, apologized over and over for what he had done, until his voice was horse, or tears choked him up too much to speak.

It was then, and only then, that Pitch would reveal himself.

He watched as Jack Frost, the almost-Guardian, slide to his knees, sobbing brokenly. As the boy began to curl his body into the fetal position, Pitch stepped from the shadows. He dropped to one knee and gathered the weeping child into his arms, pulling the boy close as he rose, and carried them both from the chamber. Jack continued to cry, cold hailstone tears rolling down his cheeks and clattering to the floor. Only in his dreams did the tears remain unfrozen.

Pitch carried the slight figure past the boy's chosen chambers, away from the once proud Pooka warrior, away from the hooked staff that was the conduit for the child-spirit's power, and passed the hanging cages that once held thousands of Mini-Tooth Fairies. He took Jack Frost deep into the catacombs of his lair, until he reached his own sleeping chambers.

Then, and only then, did he set the sobbing child down. With a tenderness that most did not associate with the Nightmare King, he placed his ward on a massive bed of black sand. Frost spread from the boy's body, stopping the shifting motions of the sand and creating a sort-of stable mattress. Pitch sat beside him, allowing the boy to burrow into his side, placing a head of snow white hair on the older spirit's lap. Gently, he carded long grey fingers through those pale locks. Quietly, he whispered praise to the boy for all that he had accomplished.

He told him how proud he was of the massive blizzards that had cut power and made traversing the outside suicide. He complimented snowball fights that ended in bloody noses and broken bones. He plied the boy with praise after praise for his craft until, at last, Jack raised his snowflake blue eyes to Pitch's glowing yellow ones…and smiled in joy.

Then, as with every other time, Jack laid his head back down, and fell asleep to his new Father's praise.

And Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, the King of Nightmares, smiled in glee as the boy became his very own pet.

**************And look, it's the final Line Break of the chapter!*****

Um….well…that didn't really go as I had planned…but then again, when DO these things go the way I intend?

*ahem* Right, well, that was…a bit darker and….gorier than I had anticipated. But there you have it!

Motaku1235, AnimeHuntress, I do hope this was satisfactory! To everyone else: I'm sorry…."I'm so, so sorry…" (cyber-huggle if you know what that quote is from!)

I shall add more chapters, done up with other requests, as often as I can, but things crop up. Keep the suggestions coming!

Oh, and "Snowdrop" will have a new chapter coming out before too much longer…maybe a week or so. I was having issues, but then I had a conversation with my lovely friend, Kaylessa, who helped me with a dilemma caused by the chapter! Yay for Kaylessa!

And one final note: Who would be interested in reading a RotG version of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? Because I dreamed it, and it was…interesting, to say the least.

Anyway, it's almost 3am, and I have lots to do tomorrow! Good-bye for now, my dearlings!


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